𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔯

Kirian led both of them out of the crowd, until the laughter and the sound of music faded into distant murmurs. As he walked he caught himself surprised at how odd it felt – how he’d never walked with Valarr before. How he knew him so well and knew nothing about him at all.

He remembered those eyes, in all their barely caged rage, their hidden fire. He remembered that expression, caught like an animal, fear and loathing and the smallest hint of tentative hope.

He remembered how his eyes changed as the rage took them both, as the fear consumed everything.

Every nightmare, every time he as much as dared to rest his eyes, he’d seen his.

“You…?” Kirian inquired, as he turned to Valarr as he finally spoke again, hooking his hands in his sword belt to keep them from shaking, tilting his chin and squaring his shoulders as if bracing for a fight.

     The bond he felt with him, it was a strange one, it felt wrong. Of course, it wasn’t a natural bond, now was it a strong one, but it was still there. Just a little bit. Lingering. That’s why he felt the need to follow him through the crowd to get to him and follow him out of it too. He had time to figure out what to say, but he still had nothing. Mind – completely blank.

“Piece it -?”  Avi started, then stopped himself from repeating Valarr’s words, even though they did strike Avi as odd.  An odd thing to ask, as if Avi had solved some sort of mystery…or uncovered a secret.

Well, Avi had never solved a mystery in his life, he had no patience for deduction and intrigue.  He’d always been powerful enough to just demand direct answers, by his order.  And as for secrets…it was more likely for Avi to stumble upon them inadvertently than have any skill to sniff them out with any sort of cunning.

Which meant it was more likely that Valarr was asking how he pieced together…a secret.

Avi stared at Valarr, mouth dropping slightly open, chin tucking into his chin as he looked up at the dragon from under his heavy brow.

“I mean - I just figured that - the rumours I’d heard when I found out she - Ains - I mean - the Duchess was alive and…and…”  Avi stammered; and if possible his large eyes got even larger as he made a new observation:  the dragon was not in plainclothes, but kitted in the official colours of East Reach.  A visual acknowledgement while within the city borders, that the dragon belonged to the coterie of East Reach’s ruling class.

No - he belonged, specifically, to Duchess Ashcraft.

“Ivar’s hairy tit…”  Avi whispered. He raised a pointed finger at Valarr.  “You’re him.  You’re the one she’s always loved, truly loved.  Even when we were….!”  Avi expelled a half-laugh, glancing up to the castle and speaking as if the Duchess could hear him.  

“A dragon no less!  Ainsley darling, you always knew how to go big.”

     Valarr was just as confused as Avi. What did he say to confuse him so much? What was wrong with asking how did he piece it together? Because it did intrigue him. They didn’t announce it to anyone that Valarr was staying with Ainsley, nor did they tell people he was a dragon, it was dangerous in these times. That was why Ainsley insisted on him wearing the official colours of East Reach – for protection. They kept their relationship a secret, pretending he was an old friend of hers, who needed a place to stay after an attack of his home. And then it slowly come together. His wording, it gave away this wasn’t a public knowledge. Or at least it wasn’t supposed to be.

     A strange man the Lord was, couldn’t finish his sentences. It seemed like another realization hit him, but what was it this time? Valarr’s brows rose in surprise at such language. He knew sailors had an interesting way of expressing their emotions, but mentioning hairy tits... That was new.

     “Um, I’m pretty sure pointing fingers is rude not just among dragons, but humans too, my Lord,” he commented looking at his finger and taking a small step back.

“Funny how sometimes, in life, you just… Find things.” Was that not how their story began? By all accounts, her life was on track to unfold as any noblewoman’s would. Her betrothal to Avitej was all but set, leading to a bounty of beautiful children, and ending in her uneventful passing. She was luckier than most, having loved him so earnestly. It would have been enough. More than enough. But when she met him, a peculiar man hidden in the corner of the marketplace, something shifted within her. The hot-headed and free-spirited woman felt a sense of calm. She introduced him to all humanity had to offer; from its great accomplishments to its undeniable follies. In the midst of it, she watched as her heart leave her and take occupancy in him.

But Ainsley was pragmatic before romantic. Duty called, and her love for the Red Keep triumphed her own desires. Now; however, all that once concerned her ceased to matter. Who cared about appearances or her failure to produce an Ashcraft heir? It seemed pointless, when the world was set to flame around them. “You would know, wouldn’t you? Calling you an old man would be an understatement.” Ainsley can’t help but joke, playfully running her fingers along his platinum locks. He looked unlike anyone else in the realm. It was a unique beauty that she relished in.

“I’ll need to look into it. There is a woman who I suspect has betrayed us. To what end, I do not know.” Gently sitting herself up, she cannot resist the concern growing within her. Valarr’s safety was on thin ice. Idle gossip and judgement felt secondary to his safety. “Will you promise to stay with me? I cannot,” allowing a raspy chuckle, she shakes her head. “I will not lose you again.”

     “It’s true what people say - the best things in life come unexpected,“ he smiled remembering how she came in his life completely unexpected. Or more like she danced right into it, joy in each of her step. He was staying near Red Keep at that time and he had noticed her before, but it was Ainsley who approached him first. It was easy to see she radiated love and kindness, he could feel she loved life itself. And it was easy to fall for her, which he did. Valarr did not know when it happened, but it did and one of the best things that had happened to him.

     He shook his head with a soft laugh. Oh, she was playing. “I’ve come to a conclusion women like older men, so... I see myself as a winner here,” he playfully teased her back, gently nudging her chin.

     As she sat up, Valarr pushed himself up too and leaned his back against the wall her bed was next to. His eyes mirrored her worry. “You think someone at the Masquerade ball saw us? I tried to be careful when I carried you out and to a safe place to shift, I didn’t see anyone following me. Although, I was distracted, because you were about to fall unconscious in my arms,” he replied and took her hand. If she knew the woman, who might have betrayed them, Ainsley could send someone to find out what else she had said and to who.

     Valarr didn’t have any plans for the future, his home was compromised and he had to find a new place to stay, preferably deep in the mountins, where nobody could get to except for another dragon. But when was he doing to do it? He didn’t know. Everything was so unclear and it was all because of Ainsley. He wished to stay, be with her and give the love he wanted to all those years ago, but didn’t get to. But... in times like these, was it wise to stay in the city? Among so many people? But one confession from her and it tipped the scales, and he easily made his mind.

Although it didn’t end in a burned and obliterated way as it easily could have,  Avi was still somewhat smarting after his visit to see Ainsley.  It smarted, mostly because he knew so many of the points she’d made were right.  It smarted because he was angry at himself, for holding on over a decade of anger and hurt that now seemed so utterly pointless. 

Such a waste of his energy, when he should’ve manned up and used that energy towards the woman herself.  But of course, things always seemed much more obvious in hindsight.   In his younger days, Avi couldn’t predict the consequences of his actions, so sure things would just ‘work out’.  

They didn’t.  

And now here he was.  All Avi could do, was acknowledge that his youth was frittered away in ignorance and emotions.  And make sure to never make those same mistakes again.

He had to admit that all that yelling and emotional strain had worked up an appetite and he decided to just pick up some East Reach street food before returning to the gryphon and the rider he came into the city with.

Finding a stall that sold odd little deep-fried potato wrapped around balls of cheese and artichoke,  Avi gratefully bought some.  Every other stall seemed to be just meat, sandwiched between more meat.  The potato cutlets smelled good at least.  And Avi walked away, just about to bite into his first one when he collided with another man.  

A man or a wall?  Because Avi bounced back but it seemed the wall didn’t budge.  An arm caught his, and sent the potato balls flying to the ground.  Avi pulled out of the grip.  

“Oi mate!”  he barked, but the wall/man’s tone was so painstakingly polite and concerned, Avi’s flare of aggravation faded quickly into resignation.

“I’m fine,” he said.  “Are you - wait a minute.  You’re - Keeva’s companion from the ball.  Valarr, was it?  She’d pointed you out to me.”

    It was not his intention to draw attention to himself, and most definitely he didn’t plan on getting into a fight with someone, but here he was - making a smaller man fall on his ass. And all his food was already on the ground. Usually Valarr was much more careful, but this time his mind was fully occupied by Ainsley.

    “Unlike your food…“ Valarr winced. “Let me buy you a new portion of what you had there. Please,“ he said helping him stand straight before letting go of his arm. His next words left him speechless for a moment. A bit mortified even… If he knew Keeva, what else did he know? Was he in danger? He swallowed thickly, but kept his demeanor polite and kind, just the way it was before.

Avi grunted a thank you and ate deftly, humming lowly once the deep fried gooeyness hit his tongue.  It was very mainland cuisine -  stodgy and lacking in pepper - but it was still delicious.  Avi’s headache diminished a bit, as his hunger abated.

So caught up in eating, he hadn’t noticed any reaction from Valarr, and the Rajayan Duke just nodded at the polite acknowledgement.  They didn’t know each other well, so it was nice to say but it meant little.

But if they didn’t know each other, why then did Avi feel his hackles constantly raised?  Despite his stature, Valarr seemed very genteel, no threat.  Certainly no threat intended towards Avi.  And yet, Avi couldn’t help but wonder if this encounter was some fate of the gods.

But why?

“Yes.  Keeva did succeed, in saving her friend,”  Avi confirmed, believing there was no harm in sharing this information about Keeva, with Valarr.  Despite their drunken make-outs and Keeva’s age,  Avi felt towards her like his younger cousins - like he had to look out for her.  Keeva said Valarr looked after her as well, so it stood to reason.

But so fresh from the sting of his meeting with Ainsley, Avi frowned as Valarr relayed his own tale of heroism the night of the Glasswater attack.  Something pinged there.  Avi had thought Ainsley had died - when he found out she was alive, it was amidst conjecture that she’d been saved by a dragon who’d flown her out of the palace.  A grandiose and wildly romantic story suited for an oppressed Duchess…and yet.  

Here was a dragon, standing before him, talking about saving his dear ladyfriend.

Avi wasn’t sure if he should ask a stupid question, but.  He didn’t know Valarr, and didn’t particularly care if the dragon thought him stupid.

“Forgive the…randomness of my question Master Valarr, but.  Do you know Duchess Ainsley Ashcraft?”  Avi asked, squinting up at the dragon.  “She’s the one.  Your friend, who you saved, innit.”  He braced himself for incredulity and denial, and possible derision.

     Valarr was trying to regain his composure and he almost missed Avi’s deep focus on his food. He was worried the Lord would notice the sudden change in him, but Valarr was so wrong. He caught a glimpse of him enjoying his food, that it almost made him chuckle a little. He was saved by Avi talking about Keeva, and he could focus now on the conversation.

     Keeva was still young and a inexperienced when it regard to living among humans and elves, but she was a fighter. Of course he was worried, it was what family did. But on the other hand he knew she’d make it out alive. And as it turned out she had saved a friend amidst fleeing the castle, and Valarr felt proud hearing that. That was the Keeva he knew and loved.

     When Valarr told him where he disappeared after the attack, he expected a question or two. Maybe even nothing at all. But Val could see there was brewing in that head of his... Before knowing who the man standing in front of him was Val would have liked a nice, small conversation with this stranger, but now that he wasn’t just a random stranger, he felt a slight hint of regret. And he didn’t know if he was going to like what was brewing in his head or not. A further conversation might lead to him revealing the Lord that he knew Ainsley and was actually now living with her for both of their safety. He wasn’t ready to share this information, and he had no idea how much about his and Ainsley’s relationship Avi knew.

     Traveling in his human form and by flying was much more easier, of course. But he needed to appear human, he must not draw attention to himself, which was a bit difficult to do with stark white hair and golden eyes. He could pass as half elf, if needed to, or at least try to do it. And besides it wasn’t far where he needed to go to - just the marketplace, so he took a horse to get there. Even though Ainsley had people who got her everything she wanted, he wanted to surprise her with a fruit or just something nice that would catch his attention.

In the fourteen years since Valarr left her side, the Duchess was fooled into a sense of false hope on more than one occasion. In the early years of her marriage, there were brief periods where the Duke of House Ashcraft saw beyond his grief and rage. He would be warm and thoughtful. But almost as quickly as it came, it left. Meanwhile, each late period was a cause for celebration. Could this be it? Could she be blessed with a child? Yet as the moons shifted, so did her fortune. Somewhere down the road, Ainsley accepted the helplessness of her situation. Until that very evening. The Duchess was not spineless enough to believe that the return of Valarr would rescue from her predicament. But his presence and the growing understanding between her and Alek said something. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope for change.

As quickly as she believed it, the palace exploded in front of their very eyes. The Duchess maneuvered through the palace slowly, dragging her feet as the smoke inhalation proved dire. How long were she and Kiera tucked away in that room for? But her dark brown eyes were set on the goal, catching sight of her parents’ apartments. Just steps away from reach now. Once she made it, she was certain all would work itself out. Or so she liked to believe.

The brunette stops in her tracks, attempting to maintain her patience amidst the ruins. But Valarr’s words only proved her point. The palace was crawling with rebels and its integrity in question. She glances down at his hand, before shaking his head furiously. “I cannot leave them.” Neither Alek nor Avi could convince her otherwise. And while Valarr’s place in her heart was irreplaceable, it wasn’t enough to stop her from acting on her duty. “I’m fine,” she exhales, attempting to brush off his concern. There would be time for it later. “I will be fine.” Ainsley correct, stepping towards her parents’ chambers. Just as her feet step forward, the unmistakable screech of the Earl of the Red Keep fills the hallways. Before her eyes, Ainsley watched in horror as the ceiling came down on her parents’ chambers. “No, no!” The world fell into a blur, her eyes blood shot and teary. Her legs moved as quickly as her heart raced, charging head-first into the first. No. She couldn’t lose her father, too.

     “Please. Come with me,“ he pleaded, his voice had a hint of sadness and despair to it, which he didn’t want there to be, but... it was what it was. Valarr hoped she’d be reasonable and come with him. The only place he knew would be safe was the mountains he lived in. Nobody had come close to the place he was staying at for years, no humans, no elves. He would bring Ainsley there until it’s safe to come back.

     “Who? Your family?” he asked glancing over her shoulder. Coming back to save them was risky, but if that would make her feel better, he’d do it. After all it was harder to kill a dragon than a fragile human. “I’ll come back for them, but first you have to come with me,” he reached out his open hand again, but he already had a growing suspicion she wouldn’t change her mind.

     Valarr shook his head not believing a word she said. Of course she thought she would be fine, but he knew better. He heard the sounds she couldn’t hear, the small cracking of the castle around them before it would come down, and the slight tremor beneath his feet. This part of the castle could come down any minute.

Their first impression of your muse: A smol bean, full with curiosity and childlike wonder

Current impression: She’s like a sister to him, the only family he has, and he’s glad she hasn’t lost her curiosity.

Are they attracted to your muse?: Yes, but not sexually or romantically, he loves her as a sister.

Something they find frightening about your muse: He’s afraid she might do something without thinking about consequences and would put herself in danger. Especially with the rebellion actively hunting down dragons... She’s still young and not as experienced as he is, he’s terrified of losing her again.

Something they find adorable about your muse: How she loves the most random or even the strangest things - feathers, frogs...

Would my muse sacrifice themselves for yours?: Yes.

Would my muse go on a date with yours?  platonic/romantic: On a platonic one definitely!

One word my muse would use to describe yours: Kindness.

Would my muse slap yours if they could?: No (or only if she was passed out and he’d need to slap her a bit if it was important to wake her up).

Their first impression of your muse: Carefree, young and beautiful, and he loved her spirit.

Current impression: She’s still young and beautiful, but not carefree anymore and he can’t see that spark of joy in his eyes and it saddens him.

Are they attracted to your muse?: Yes, and has been for years.

Something they find frightening about your muse: How she has changed during these last fourteen years. He has a bad feeling about the Duke based on the changes in her, he’s a bad influence, and Valarr’s afraid she might change more if she stayed with him.

Something they find adorable about your muse: That moment when she’s truly smiling, it makes him feel warm and fuzzy and makes him want to protect her at all costs.

Would my muse sacrifice themselves for yours?: Yes.

Would my muse go on a date with yours?  platonic/romantic: He has been on sort of a date with another dragon while in his true form, but not with a human and following the things humans do on dates, which means he’d probably be a bit awkward, but he’d do his research and ask her out on a date.

One word my muse would use to describe yours: Brave.

Would my muse slap yours if they could?: No (or only if she was passed out and he’d need to slap her a bit if it was important to wake her up).